Yeah, I'm pissed. I'm pissed because I finally get interested in something again and then I don't get to play with it. I'm pissed because I get assurances that yes, of course, the little slut will be there, and then? Nothing.

I'm pissed because for a few hours I'd started thinking he was worth bothering with again. I'm pissed because I was WRONG, because apparently he's no fucking use to me, not if the stupid bitch won't keep his own word. What good is he if he can't even follow such a simple order, can't keep his promises, can't manage to do anything but leave me annoyed? I said I'm tired of caring - I'm tired of putting up with shit like this too. I'm sure he's got some excellent reason for not showing up and not managing to leave even the briefest of messages explaining. Family emergency, work called, hell, maybe Sarah's in the hospital. Don't know.

You know what I think, though? I think that he tried too hard, earlier. That he nearly gave himself away and it scared him, and now he's trying to feel like he's in control, coming up with reasons not to obey, avoiding me. I think he talks of love, says he misses me, begs to be used, but the moment I do turn my attention back on him he runs like a whipped dog, tail between his legs.

I'm not playing that game.

It's simple. Obey, and I keep you. Amuse me, and I'll take pleasure in your company, even seek it out occasionally. Disobey, disappoint me, and I've got no reason to want you in my life.

So come on, puppy. Tell me I'm wrong.

Tell me you didn't mean to break your word.

Tell me you didn't willingly disobey.

Tell me you aren't running scared.

Maybe I'll believe you.

Yeah, I know you think I should give you the benefit of the doubt, that you've always been loyal, all that shit, you say the same thing every time you end up not coming through on something, every time you say you'll be somewhere, do something, and you don't, every time you pull this.

WEEKS, puppy. Weeks where we didn't have any time together, barely any contact, and here I thought tonight would be different.

In another hour, I'll be calmer. By tomorrow, I'll be downright apathetic. 48 hours and I won't remember your name.

*shrug* Stupid little slut, can't do anything right. But then, I'm not that bright myself, for expecting otherwise. I really need to stop doing that.